


Belief

by mggislife2789



Category: Criminal Minds, Spencer Reid - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Overweight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-24
Updated: 2017-02-24
Packaged: 2018-09-26 16:58:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9912338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mggislife2789/pseuds/mggislife2789
Summary: Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters or their original stories. This is only for fun. It's where my brain goes after the credits roll. No copyright intended. Better safe than sorry. ;)





	

How long can I possibly put this off? 

You’d been seeing Spencer for nearly two months and had yet to sleep with him. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to - quite the opposite actually - but when you looked in the mirror you didn’t like what you saw. So the idea of someone else liking what they saw was beyond your comprehension. “Are you okay?” Spencer asked sincerely, pulling his lips from yours. 

For the past five-to-ten minutes, you’d been making out pretty heavily, but at the point where his hands glided under your shirt, you must’ve subconsciously been pulling away. “I’m fine,” you lied, leaning back into him to place a soft kiss on his neck.

But Spencer could tell you were lying. He placed his hands on either side of your head and tugged you back, forcing you to look at him. “You’re not fine. I can tell when something’s wrong. Did I do something to make you uncomfortable?” he asked. 

“No, not at all,” you said quickly. “It’s not you, it’s me.” You laughed at the cliched sentiment. Wasn’t in the same context it normally was, but it still sounded cliche as all hell. “It’s all me.” 

Entangling his hand in your hair, Spencer pulled you forward, placing a small kiss on your nose. “You can tell me anything, you know.”

Should I really tell the guy I want to sleep with that I hate what I see when I look in the mirror, so I’m afraid he’ll find me gross?

For a moment, you debated whether to say something or to just push forward and hope for the best, but your fear had you confessing instead. “It’s just,” you started, leaning back on your feet, “When I look in the mirror, I don’t like what I see, so I’m afraid that once we end up in bed, you won’t like what you see either.” An embarrassed flush spread across your entire body, which you hugged tighter in shame. You’d always had weight problems. Only two boyfriends. One of which ended well, the other, with him cheating on you - and the woman he’d cheated with was stereotypically beautiful, so you couldn’t help but assume that was why it had happened. Well that and the fact that the guy was an asshole.

“You don’t think you’re beautiful?” he asked sadly, brushing his lips over yours. You just shook your head; you never had. When it came to who you were as a person, you likes and dislikes, your attitude about the world - all of that, you liked about yourself - but when it came to what you saw in the mirror, everything in society was telling you that you were anything but worthy. A tear fell from your eye as he put pressure on the back of your head, deepening the kiss he’d started before.

“I think you are,” he said. You searched his eyes for the truth. For one of the first times in your life, you felt the sincerity. “Anyone who says otherwise has a warped view of beauty. If you want to wait, I’ll wait however long you want, but you need to know that I want you. All of you. I don’t care what scars or marks or rolls you have.” 

As he took your chin between his thumb and forefinger, the rest of your tears flooded down your face. Instead of moving away, you made a conscious effort to mold your body into him, picking up where you left off and placing his hand back underneath your shirt where it had been before. His hand slid over the side of your stomach, but instead of pulling away as you had always expected, he drew you closer to him. “Thank you, Spence,” you whispered. Ever since the demise of your last relationship, it was hard to imagine anyone wanting you again, so feeling the need with which he moved against you was intoxicating.

Slowly, he slid his other hand underneath your shirt, gently floating it up your back by degrees, until it was at the point where it could be removed. Pushing up from the couch, he gathered you to him and walked you inside. When he placed you on the bed, he crawled up your body, placing kisses on the areas you hated most. “You. Are. Beautiful. And I’ll keep believing it until you can believe it yourself.”

With the tears once again pricking the corners of your eyes, you sniffled as he made his way toward your lips. “Just so you know, I’ve always been ashamed of my body too.”

“Really?” you asked, almost completely taken out of the moment. “Why? You’re so gorgeous. I still don’t know how I landed someone like you.”

“My arms are impossibly thin,” he said as he unbuttoned and peeled off his shirt. “I have next to no abs to speak of. When we’re out with the team, I’m the last one women look at. All eyes are on Morgan or Hotch. Plus, my face convinces people I’m too on the young side.”

Morgan was stereotypically handsome and Hotch had a way about him too. But Spencer was what you would’ve called softly masculine. His features and attitude were soft, but he didn’t feel himself any less masculine because of it. If he didn’t actually feel that way, he at least carried himself confidently. “I just want you to know that you’re not alone when it comes to how you see yourself. But I’m confident that we always see ourselves worse than we actually are. The others that matter don’t judge us anywhere near as harshly as we do ourselves.” 

Once again, he bent down to kiss between the hollow of your breasts. “Then how about this,” you said, grabbing hold of his fluffy brown hair and pulling his mouth to yours, “Until we can believe it ourselves, I’ll tell you how handsome you are, and you can tell me how beautiful you think I am.”

“Sounds like a plan.”


End file.
